


Total Eclipse

by SmoshGamesCrew



Category: Smosh
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Depression, F/M, Murder, Points of View, Pregnancy, Triggers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-17 23:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19964824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoshGamesCrew/pseuds/SmoshGamesCrew
Summary: Damien has nothing to live for. He's just trying to get away from the dystopia inside his head.





	Total Eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> This took me 5-6 days. It can be triggering to some. It is dark, and im very proud of it. Enjoy.

_When I was young, and golden, I thought all I needed was experience, and I could create new colors, a new god_

  
The sun had been racing against the old rickety train since its departure from the station. Smoke had been billowing up, polluting the air with its harsh toxins and cloying odor. I swung the latched door open, wanting to see the visuals nature provided me. clinging onto the metal handles, I welcomed the wind that had begun ripping at my shirt. Clouds swirled into the bleeding sunset, and tones of orange began saturating through the greenery. It didn't matter where I was heading. I just wanted freedom. 

The rocks that dipped below the rivers surface had called to me. The running river had faded into the constant static of my mind. My conscience seemed to have withered away, newly surrounded by the fantasies of plunging into those icy depths just to feel jagged pieces of the earth along flesh. I hadn't felt pain in so long. I hadn't felt anything. Sweet nothingness had been healing my fragile psyche.

My mind had been clouded with thoughts. Death? Despair? I can't remember. My vision had left me feeling as if I was in a drunken stupor. I hadn't even heard the stuttering of my own breath against my eardrums; nor could I feel my heartbeat hammering against my ribcage. I was invincible against the winds.

Everything in my world had changed in a single moment.

I jumped.

* * *

  
“You're a brilliant writer, Damien. Those poems are remarkable.” 

She's truly an angel singing praises. Her melodic voice makes my blood tingle and my heart sing. She's ethereal, a masterpiece of something heaven sent. Her gaze bores into mine; liquid topaz and hazel swirl and intertwine. My brain goes haywire, yet I mask it by cockily chewing my portion of food she had given me. I had been found washed up hours earlier, when the sun had begun to set along the outer banks of the river. Yet, I hadn't remembered if I felt jagged rocks pierce me.

It was assumed by her to be a suicide attempt. 

Maybe it was. 

None the less, when I came out of unconsciousness, I was in a lavish and luxurious home, water to my lips and questions coming at lightning speed.  
_What year is it? What's your name? Do you need medical attention?_

After my answers were met with approval, I was urged gently to write something, anything, to prove I was still considered to be mentally capable. I opted for a poem. Simple and elegant, catching her attention immediately, none of it was planned.

Her husband had gotten tired quite soon into me being there. While not being a man of many words, I could tell he was possessive of his wife. He rolled his eyes at our conversation, snapping his fingers to summon the maid to start spooning more food on to each plate. He hadn't uttered a word to me other than an annoyed grunt when my work had come up, or I spoke of trivial things. 

I started to suspect Shayne Topp would grow to disdain me. It was clear he felt threatened by how much attention Courtney had been giving me as the doting caregiver.  
I was to stay in the guest room and leave by morning. Shayne's orders. I didn't miss the mild disappointment that bloomed across his wife's beautiful face.

Mr. Topp however, did. He didn't seem to be a man of compassion; it was unfair to Courtney in more ways than one.

“I apologize for Shayne's jealous behavior.” Courtney's voice was low, rumbling against my ear. I sat across from her on the attic floor. Neither of us should have been up here but she snuck a bottle of whiskey that had been passed until it was empty. The candles shadow danced along our faces. Fingers delicately fumbled with the piece of hair by her cheek, a diamond glittered along the flames light. 

“Is he always such a daft, and arrogant prick?” her eyes sobered, zeroing in on me like a missile as I chuckled, smiling wildly at the conflicting expression ghosting along her features. My reply was sharp on my tongue, it made me smirk.

Lips parted but no words came out. She was hesitant, the nervous confession threatening to spill. Her voice wavered, hushed mumbles of a response, the feeling of shame radiating off her as she eyed up her ring.

“He's nothing more than a child.” 

She turned away as the candle alongside us had burned out, leaving us in darkness. I stood up. Walking to her lithe frame, hunched by the door. I wrapped my hands around her wrist, pulling her upright and mumbling against her ear.

“That's how him and I differ.” And I was gone, easing myself down the steps and snuck safely back in the guestroom. I assumed she went back to the master shortly after.  
I fell asleep. Dreaming of her eyes in the candlelight. 

Dawn had arrived sooner than I would have liked. I quietly slipped out of the foyer door, the guestroom was ajar signaling my leave and a hidden note for Courtney with the location of a bar inside. It took weeks for her to see me, but I knew she would find her way back. 

Our trysts started to become frequent. 

I would wait. Courtney would show up. She would throw some money down on disgusting alcohol and slam shots before facing me with hooded eyes and relaxed shoulders. Her fingers would curl around my wrist and her wedding band would be cold against my skin. 

“I stopped wearing it around the house.” I would catch her eyes sparkling in the dim lighting before feeling the way her nails would trace my fingers. 

“We fight pretty often.” It was breezy. There was never any sadness behind admissions like this. It was obvious how Shayne viewed Courtney in the way he treated her. Property. His. It was a loveless marriage to fulfill a contract by their families to sustain wealth. Nothing more, nothing less.

Courtney deserved more than that in the grand scheme of things. I was going to make sure she got it.

  
It was hard to remember what life had been before meeting this otherworldly being, who had been light in darkness. My life was empty, hopeless, and bleak. I sought freedom, a safe haven from the dystopia inside my head. She was an angel hiding in plain sight. In the skin of a neglected wife with a vengeful husband, a lover scorned. He knew where she was, and it killed him that he could never stop her, no matter how bad he berated her.

The first night she spent with me, Shayne was on an urgently planned business trip. We met at the bar, half-drunk of cheap liquor and the way she looked in the dim glow of dying bulbs. I remember the way her fingers wrapped around mine as I pulled her up the back steps to my room. The way she smiled when I asked her to stay with me.

I think that's the night I fell in love.  
  
“You help me, and I'll help you, and when we've taken as much as we can from each other. We simply split up, and move on.” It was a risky proposition, but I had to feel what it was like if she were mine.

I sat on the floor, leaning away from her, before moving myself to be by the chair she sat in. She looked skeptical of my idea, the duty as a wife hung over her subconscious as eyes searched mine. I rose to my feet. Done trying to hide myself from her, to forge not having my heart in her hands. 

“Okay…” it was faint, barely heard over the blood sloshing in my ears. I froze before cupping her face and pressing my lips to hers. When I pulled away, she pushed her lips against mine once more, battling her inner demons of morals, adultery, and ultimately deserving the love I was ready to give her.  
We were in bed kissing fervently, a blur of removing clothes, intoxicating words, and her cries of ecstasy were like music to my ears.  
She was perfect, tangled up in bedsheets with her head against my chest.

Nothing made me feel more alive.

It had been months, meeting in the darkness but expanding out of bars. We were now at a beach, toes in the sand watching the waves crash against the shoreline. Her whisper caught the wind, wheat blonde hair fluttering in the moonlight.

My god. I loved her.

We were still together in secret. Emotionally I knew I had been lying. I wouldn't be able to just up and leave. I fell for her laughter, her eyes, her lips, her essence. I fell for every part Shayne couldn't see.

Their fighting was a daily occurrence. Screaming themselves raw amidst shattered china and blood dripping down skin. She cried. Her face buried in my neck. I was everything she deserved. I was everything her husband could never be.

I made love to her slowly that night. Savoring every inch of the beautiful girl beneath me.

* * *

  
It had been a year. Passion, fire, love. A year of pure bliss. I was on a high, euphoria flitted through my veins like a drug. Courtney was a part of me, my soul, my heart, my spirit. She was becoming everything to me. It was terrifying to experience a single person having such an impact.

One day, when the weather was warm, the winter season had shifted into spring. New life. New beginnings. Shayne barely slept at home anymore, the business trips become longer, the fights simmered to passive aggressive remarks and snide commentary of her whereabouts. All of which had to do with me. 

I had to take a chance. I had to know what she felt.

“Do you love me?” I asked as I laid next to her, her master bedroom hadn't been as lavish as I assumed. The silence had been deafening. Maybe I was too honest or blunt in my wording, but she was the same. She looked at me almost drunkenly as she touched my warm cheek with her cool hand.

“Yes.” It was an echo in my head, miles away. I thought it was a dream. The way she made me feel was like a drug, a constant high in the form of a tangible beauty. Nothing could get more truthful than that. The fall from that euphoria had been just as quick. 

Courtney was still married, and a divorce would never be final. It was a constant mantra in the back of my mind.

 _Adulterer. Sinner_.

The voices in my head would taunt me endlessly while Courtney was asleep. I would watch how her features sparkled underneath the moon, thinking to myself how Shayne would never love her enough to let her go or truly be happy. It was depressing really, watching this shell of a man hold power over the woman he was supposed to cherish and hold dear.

_How many hours have I watched, wondering why she wanted so much to escape from reality?_

Her screams echoed in my head, her expression crumbling as I watched the blood ooze from her nose before the door slammed. Shayne had snapped, popping his fist forward against her beautiful face. The fight had been over money this time. Shayne was overdrawing their account. Courtney was enraged, rightfully so. Her voice had carried outside to where I had been in the hall. Shayne had opened the door. Gone was the arrogant demeanor, and egotistical, money driven, aristocrat. In its place was a broken being. His knuckles were bloody, splotched along his wedding ring. Breaths ragged, breaking into an angry snarl at the sight of me. 

“Why are you doing this to us? Can't you see you're ruining our happiness? Everything was fine until you showed up!” I watched as a pulled back fist came towards me. I ducked, swinging back harshly, his nose crunched under my knuckles. The brunt of my fist knocked him into the wall, allowing fresh droplets to splatter against the white hallway. Courtney and I locked eyes as I stepped over the lump in fetal position by my feet. Her eye had begun to bruise intensely, never leaving Shayne’s form as he slowly rose forward.

“I'll still never want a divorce.” The back of his hand smeared blood against his cheek. 

“You can have fifty of him, but at the end of the day you're _mine_. I _own_ you. Even if Damien Haas kills me, he'll die in a jail cell. Then you'll have no one.” The wheels in Courtney's head turned. Fear settled in her mind.

“I love him, Shayne.”

“Don't be idiotic. Love doesn’t exist.”

“I think you should leave.” Her voice was somber, destroyed by his callous nature. How could be so blind? Steel blue eyes met mine before storming out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Courtney hugged me kissing me gently on the lips. Everything was going to be okay for us.

And then it wasn't.

* * *

  
“He's your husband, right? You love him? Go back to him!” everything was deteriorating around me. Courtney was growing distant, colder, this wasn't how I pictured our ending. The light started to fade from her eyes, my light was dimming from vibrant technicolor to gray. It was alarming. Something was wrong. She wouldn't tell me. She just kept crying. I broke the light above us in the bedroom where we made love for the first time. Above her head, snowflakes of glass shatter and she pleads with me he's not what she wants, she wants me. Her hands are clammy, shaking, as she cups my face.  
We just can't be together any longer.

Everything shatters, like a dagger pierced me. I barely register her lips against mine.

  
I can't tell if our final lovemaking session was real, or a figment of my fucking imagination.  
There's no love in the world, and I'm in hell.

I don't remember Courtney leaving. 

I don't remember much of anything anymore. 

I'm lost without her.

* * *

  
My hands are shaking as I empty my stomach into the toilet bowl for the second time this morning. It's been three months since Damien and I ended. Everything had crashed around me shortly after that.  
Shayne's footsteps came behind me as he curls my hair behind my ears. 

“Don't touch me.” I cough, dry heaving as he rubs my back. 

“Morning sickness is a part of pregnancy my dear.” He kisses my temple. “you're giving our families what they've always wanted.” 

“It isn't yours.” I feel Shayne's fingers thread through my hair, ripping me towards him. 

“I know. You haven't _fucked_ me in ages. It's just satisfying to know the real reason you broke that poor saps heart. He'll never know that bastard child inside of you.” He releases me.

Tears slip as I hear him disappear out of the room.

I rest my hands along the growing bump. My heart flutters in anticipation as I walk down into the kitchen. Shayne's coughing, gasping for air as the maid is panicking behind him. His face is turning blue as blood drips onto the table. Then everything stops. His head hits with a thud. It's over as quick as it began.

Just like it was promised. 

The maid, Olivia, turns to me. Dropping her panicked expression immediately upon seeing my face. She crosses the kitchen, hugging tightly, resting her hands along my cheeks

“I'll call the police. Whatever you do, don't return. There's money being wired anonymously to an account in North Carolina, it's in Damien's name. He's waiting by the river's edge. Go. We don't have much time.” My head began to spin as I ran. I ran as fast as my feet could take me.

He's there.

“I'm sorry I didn’t tell you.” My voice burns, rushed as tears cloud my vision. Hands wrap around his shoulders. The minute I feel Damien's lips against mine, everything clicks. It will be okay.

“Olivia came to me a month after you left. She told me everything was going to be taken care of. I thought I lost you.”

“Did Olivia tell you anything else?” Damien eyed me curiously. I moved his hand to rest along the small bump.

“I'm pregnant.” He beams, smiling in disbelief before kissing me again. We don't have much time to celebrate as police sirens blare in the distance.

It's time.

Damien nods, mentioning an old junker up the road, it will take us to the train station where we can travel more discreetly. I don't mind. As long as I wake up tomorrow, and see the sunrise with the love of my life by my side, nothing can stand in our way. Damien Haas was my light in the darkness. Our child can attest to that.

My world had brightened significantly since meeting him.

He is my sun. He is everything to me.


End file.
